Fandom Royale
by Robin Reaper
Summary: This is the Fandom Royale. A vicious fight to the death between everybody's favourite characters. Includes people from Hunger Games, Divergent, Harry Potter, Battle Royale and Disney. Lots of character death. Rated M for violence. WHO WILL WIN?
1. Tribute List

**This fanfic is going to be a huge battle of the fandoms and contains characters from Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Divergent, Disney and Battle Royale. This fic contains extreme violence. You have been warned. Don't expect this to be fluffy bunnies and everybody holding hands.**

**All psychopaths out there, I hope you enjoy!**

**Tributes:**

1. Ana

2. Caleb

3. Draco

4. Elsa

5. Finnick

6. Four

7. Gale

8. Ginny

9. Harry

10. Hermione

11. Hiccup

12. Jack

13. Johanna

14. Katniss

15. Kazuo

16. Luna

17. Merida

18. Mitsuko

19. Peeta

20. Peter

21. Prim

22. Rapunzel

23. Ron

24. Tris

~Tributes remaining: 24~


	2. 1

1.

Luna gave a slight groan before straightening her stiff joints. She must have fallen asleep on the common room floor again whilst doing her homework. *It's rather odd* she thought to herself as she slowly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. *I could have sworn that I made it to my dormitory this time, and besides, doesn't the common room have carpets? Why is the floor so hard and cold?* She opened her eyes properly and waited for them to adjust to the fluorescent light above.

Luna was in a classroom, but not the standard Hogwarts ones. The desks had been pushed out to the sides of the room and the windows were heavily boarded with thick planks of wood. Luna extended her magic and found that the door was locked and blocked with magical barriers.

That's when she noticed the other people around her, all in varying states of consciousness. After doing a quick head count, Luna surmised that there were 24 people, all roughly her age, sitting in the room around her. A girl next to her with short choppy black hair was beginning to stir. *Perhaps this girl can tell me where we are, although it looks like she only knows as much as I do.*

Luna knelt beside her and gently placed her hand on the girls shoulder. The young woman's eyelids snapped open and before Luna knew it she was pinned to the floor, looking up into the girl's piercing, murky blue eyes.

"Where am I? Who are you? Did Snow send you?" She hissed at Luna. Out of the corner of her eye, Luna saw the shadows in the corners shift slightly. She took a deep breath trying to stay calm.

"I don't know where we are, my name is Luna Lovegood and I don't know who 'Snow' is. Please try to calm down, your anger is disturbing the Taffitunks, and they get violent if they're disturbed." The girl raised her eyebrows at Luna's last sentence but she could see the truth in Luna's eyes at the answers to her hasty interrogation. Slowly, the young woman let Luna get into a comfortable sitting position, before she extended her hand to her.

"I'm Johanna Mason."

Luna shook the offered hand and gave Johanna a bright smile. "That's cool. Johanna means 'God is gracious' in Hebrew."

Johanna shrugged and set about sizing the room up. "Where do you suppose we are?"

Luna bit her lip in thought. "Well, we're not in my boarding school, and I doubt we're in where ever you came from because I could see your surprise when you woke up." Luna frowned in concentration before her eyes widened slightly and she began to crane her neck to try and find something. "I think we should try to look around for someone we know. Perhaps we weren't the only ones to be taken from where we come from."

Johanna started peering around the room and not three seconds later she said, "Found some."

Luna turned her head in the direction that Johanna had nodded to. There was an olive skinned, brunette couple, holding hands and glaring at anyone who moved, sitting beside a petite blonde girl and a big fair haired guy who looked fearful and concerned. Off to the side of their group was a man with bronze hair and green eyes, who was sitting with his back to all the others, scowling at the floor.

"The brunettes are Katniss and …Gale, I think, the little child is Katniss's sister, Prim, the boy is called Peeta and Finnick's the stroppy one being a loner."

Luna nodded. "I found my friends. They're in the corner, over there." Luna pointed each of them out to Johanna. "The girl with the straight ginger hair is Ginny, the guy she's failing to prod awake is Harry, Hermione is the one with really bushy brown hair and the one that's… oddly calm is Ron. I would have thought he'd be panicking. Strange." Luna noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She blinked in shock before pointing out the white blond she'd noticed. "And that's Draco Malfoy. I don't know what he's doing here."

Draco was sitting near the front of the room, leaning up against one of the desks beside a boy his age that had mousy brown hair. They were whispering quickly to one another.

Luna shrugged his appearance off as the doors at the front of the room opened with a bang. In strode a woman with wavy brown hair, glasses and dark eyes. She was accompanied by a dozen soldiers, all decked out in body armour and each holding a rifle with strings of bullets tied to their waists. The woman stopped at the desk and put the folders she had been carrying upon it before staring up at the silent observers sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

"Hello. My name is Nova Morse. Most of you are confused as to why you are here." Nova surveyed the small crowd with a blank expression. It sent weird shivers up Luna's spine but she kept paying attention. "You are going to participate in Fandom Royale. There are no exceptions. The Fandom Royale is where we gather a group of 24 of you from different fiction dimensions and then let you out onto the island this school is situated upon to fight to the death."

There was silence for a moment before everyone broke out into shouts of angry protest. Luckily the Taffitunks slept through the noise. Luna had gone pale. *I must have miss heard her. Fight to the death? Kill my friends? No...*

Johanna had stayed quiet during the raucousness around them. Her expression had hardened and Luna entertained the thought that perhaps her new friend had had to do something like this in the past.

Nova stayed silent until the noise had died down. "As I said, there are no exceptions. I doubt any of you have noticed your collars yet."

Luna was confused at first before she saw Johanna's hand jump to her neck. Luna copied her actions and felt a cold thin strip of metal fastened around her throat.

"The collars will keep you from misbehaving. If you try to remove the collar, if you try to escape the confines of the island, if there is more than just one of you alive after exactly three days of being on this island, that collar will blow you to smithereens."

Everyone stayed in silent shock so Nova continued.

"Each of you will receive a backpack upon your departure from the school. It holds one bottle of water, one loaf of bread, one torch, a map and a weapon. Some weapons are better than others. There will be no questions" Nova looked pointedly at a dirty blond haired girl, who had had her hand up to try and get Nova's attention. The girl lowered it with a frown and shuffled closer to the boy next to her that glowered at the others staring at them. Luna noticed the boy next to Draco send the girl a reassuring smile. *They must know each other… sibling perhaps…*

The soldiers then wheeled in a rack of backpacks, all of them dark green. Nova began speaking again.

"When one of you dies, we will know via the collars and we shall sound off a cannon noise across the island so that you know. As I said before there is a 3 day time limit. Now, I shall let you go in two minute intervals, going by a list of names that I have constructed. Two minutes after the last person has left, this school shall become a danger zone and your collars will blow you up if you come within five meters of it."

She opened a folder that she had previously set upon the table and Luna hoped to Merlin that she wasn't first.

"Number 1: Ana."

A girl with auburn hair with a white streak running through it and a herd of light freckles sprinkled across her nose gave a terrified wail. She was sitting beside a timid blonde whose hair was extremely long and piled in miniature heaps all around her. Ana was given a reassuring pat on the back as she stood up and shuffled to the front. A soldier threw her a bag and she caught it with a slight 'eep' before poor Ana dashed out of the door out to the surrounding island.

"Number 2: Caleb"

The mousey brunet beside Draco stood up after whispering something in the blond's ear. Draco nodded at him and Caleb strode over to collect a rucksack and leave.

"Number 3: Draco."

Draco managed to keep calm as he rose to his feet and followed his apparent new friend out into the night.

"Number 4: Elsa."

A blond, with hair that could rival Draco's in colour, stalked over to the bag rack, glaring icily at Nova. Nova looked unimpressed so Elsa just took her bag and left. Luna could swear she saw bits of snow on the ground where Elsa had walked.

"Number 5: Finnick."

The bronze haired boy from before stood and sent Johanna a little wave as he left.

More people filtered out of the room in alphabetical order according to their first names. Ginny Harry and Hermione all got called out one after the other and Luna could tell, by their determined glances at one another, that they were going to try to get through this together, even if that meant breaking the Fandom Royale rules. Ron watched them each leave from his place at the back, not saying a word to any of them. His blank expression almost rivalled Nova's and it unsettled Luna considerably.

Johanna came at Number 13.

"Bye," Luna whispered to her. Johanna gave her a little smile before bending down and giving her a small awkward hug, causing Luna to smile. Johanna grabbed a bag and left the room waving at Luna.

Johanna's friend, Katniss, left next glowering at the soldier who tossed her her designated rucksack, before storming out of the school.

"Number 15: Kazuo."

A Japanese guy with slightly auburn hair in a navy tuxedo jumped to his feet and prowled towards the front of the room to collect his bag. He ignored the bag about to be thrown at him and picked up a different one off the rack. He turned to survey the rest of the tributes in the room before giving a slight smirk and exiting. That guy gave Luna the heebie-jeebies.

"Number 16: Luna."

*Damn. It's my turn.* Luna felt bile rise in her throat but she swallowed it down and shakily got to her feet. She picked her way over the 8 other people left, making sure not to step on the strange blondes long hair, before reluctantly taking her bag and exiting the room.

Luna found herself in a corridor.*Okay Luna, you have two minutes before the next person exits. Run and hide.*

Luna jogged down the corridor, hating the loud slaps her shoes made on the linoleum floor, to the double doors that had been left wide open to reveal the island. Luna could see, through the doors, a sports field stretching off to her left and a few houses could just be seen off slightly to her right.

Without thinking more about it, Luna sprinted out into the open.

Suddenly an echoing rattling sounded from above and behind her and Luna felt as though she was being ripped apart. A high pitched shriek of pain escaped her lips as she collapsed to the concrete ground. The rattling stopped and she heard a thud and then footsteps. Her eyes were screwed up in excruciating agony. Luna let out another heart stopping screech as whoever it was yanked her backpack from her clutches.

Luna turned her head and forcefully opened her eyes. There was some sort of fuzzy black thing right in front of her face. The pain was beginning to ebb and she was feeling light and confused. Her vision focused and she realized what the black thing was. A machine gun. Pointing at her forehead.

She could just make out the smirking face of Kazuo behind the barrel, before he pulled the trigger.

~Tributes remaining: 23~


	3. 2

2

Peter had always hated his luck. It was awful.

Firstly, he'd been born into Candor.*Bloody stupid place. Why the fuck would you want to tell the truth all the bloody time. Jees…* His life had always been planned for him. His parents picking his friends for him pretty much from birth, his parents making him sit with tutors every day to make sure he was top of his class, his parents fixing an arranged girlfriend for him. Basically it was all his parents fault.

The first time he'd managed to be independent was the Choosing Ceremony. Finally able to go where his heart belonged. Dauntless.

But then that little bitch Tris just had to spoil it for him. If it weren't for her, he probably would have been in charge of all the initiates. He could have exerted his power over them by bullying the weak like his parents taught him. But no. Tris just had to come and spoil everything.

And now he was here. *Bloody Fandom Royale*

He sighed from his seat near the door.

Some girl called 'Luna' had just left. She had been kind of pretty with a shock of white blond hair curling down around her shoulders. She had looked calm but her bottom lip had trembled so Peter had seen through the façade.

Peter had taken to counting to 120 as the seconds ticked by before the next person was told to leave. He only counted to 16 however, when they heard the sound of rapid gunfire and a petrified scream from where Peter suspected was outside. Some of the people left in the room jumped and two blond girls, one of which had very, very, very long hair, started crying silently. Another shriek was heard and as more gunfire occurred, the sound of cannon rang out across the island. Luna was dead.

Peter noted, out of the corner of his eye, the two blonde girls had shuffled towards one another and were whispering between themselves. The boy who had been besides the younger of the two girls (the one without the crazy hair) joined them in conversation and after a while they all nodded in confirmation. *Bloody pansies. I bet they're going to form an alliance.*

Peter's attention was snapped back to the front when Miss Morse continued with the names and he maintained his counting of the seconds.

"Number 20: Peter."

Peter stood up. He was embarrassed but hid it well like his parents taught him. When Miss Morse had called out Number 19, both him and the blond sitting with the two girls had stood up at the same time. He had had the humiliation of having to sit back down while the blond gave him a sympathetic smile. *Jackass*

Peter strode over to grab a bag and then he headed out through the door. He subconsciously started counting the seconds until the next person would come.

At the end of the corridor that Peter was walking down, were two wide open doors leading to the outside. A figure was still on the darkened ground just beyond the thresh hold. Luna.

Her stomach was ripped to shreds by the gunfire Peter had heard earlier and her hair was now a violent red because of its time soaking in the sickening puddle of blood spreading beneath her.

Peter gulped. He'd seen blood and gore before, heck, he'd caused blood and gore before, but seeing this innocent girl with a bleeding hole for a stomach and her eyes staring, unseeing at the sky, it was too much.

60 seconds. It had been a minute since he left the classroom. He needed to go.

But would he just leave Luna?

Peter quickly debated in his head and sighed in exasperation at his decision. He marched forward and out the door, before kneeling beside the slumped form of the girl he didn't know. Peter gently moved her so that she was in a straight lying down position, with her arms crossed across her tortured mid-section, her eyes still turned up to the darkening sky. Then, with his index and middle finger, Peter gently closed her eyes.

"There you go," he whispered to her hollow ears. "Now you could be sleeping."

His time was up. He needed to move.

Peter sprinted off in the direction of the woods directly in front of him and reached the cover of the foliage just in time to hear someone else emerging from the building. He sighed in relief. *I've done it. It's begun. Now all I have to do is lay low for a while and I should be…*

Peter's train of thought was cut off abruptly when he heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. He flipped around, hiking his rucksack up in front of him to cover his chest. A thin but tall body extended from the bushes about 4 meters away. *Flight or fight, Peter.*

Peter bit his lip firmly to prevent himself from letting his feet carry him away as the figure stepped into the light filtering between the trees from the flood lights near the school. Peter slowly realized that it was the creepy doe eyed psychotic girl who had left at number 18.

She was smiling, but it was nothing like the small smile she had given before leaving the school. This smile stretched from ear to ear in what Peter could only detect as anticipation. But what she could be anticipating, Peter didn't know.

*She's playing this twisted game. And she's enjoying it too. Shit.*

That was the moment Peter noticed what she was holding in her right hand. He'd seen the Amity walking around with them occasionally, for use in the fields, harvesting wheat. A long wooden handle about the size of Peter's forearm with a curving metal blade at the end. A sickle. It gleamed in the light filtering through the trees from the school flood lights.

*Oh yeah! We each get a weapon!*

Number 18 was slowly approaching him, her smirk still in place, as Peter rummaged through his bag desperately. He started to back up to give himself more time. Finally Peter's hand enclosed on a thin cylindrical object and he ripped it from the depths of his bag. 18 was getting closer, almost within attacking distance and Peter felt his back slam into the rough bark of a tree, as he tried to identify what it was he had received as a weapon.

It was a pen.

Peter snapped off the lid and found that if he squeezed it, a thin trail of sparkling liquid bubbled up out of the top.

It wasn't just any pen. It was a glitter pen.

Peter had been given a _glitter pen._

And 18 had a sharpened sickle.

Remembering the girl who was coming towards him, Peter looked up in time to see her swing her sickle horizontally at his neck. He heard the sickening slicing sound before he felt anything. Then the burning pain roared to life, dancing through him.

Peter slumped to the ground and desperately grabbed for his throat to staunch the endless flow of blood that had begun flowing from the wound. 18 had got him, deep and swift, just above the metal collar.

He could just about see her outline. Everything was becoming blurry and he was starting to choke on the blood filling his throat. His vision grew worse with the lack of oxygen and the last thing he saw was 18 shouldering his forgotten bag and sprinting off.

He was surprised at his last thought as the darkness swallowed him.

*Perhaps, where ever I'm going, that girl Luna will be there too.*

~Tributes remaining: 22~


	4. 3

3.

Tris was terrified.

When she'd first woken up in the weird classroom, she'd thought she was in another one of her fear landscapes. Luckily Four had been with her but unfortunately he had confirmed that this was in fact real.

He'd been the 6th person to leave and Tris had even gone as far as thanking God when the cannon hadn't rung out to signify his death. He'd promised that he would find her. That they would get through this together. And she was going to hold him to that promise.

Tris was startled out of her thoughts by the boom of the cannon. Someone was dead. Was it Four? Or was it the girl who had just left? Number 21?

One of the soldiers left the room for a moment before returning and marching up to Nova Morse, the lady in charge. "Number 20 is down, Ma'am."

Nova nodded her head and continued to stare at the last three tributes to have to leave the school grounds. Tris wracked her brain trying to remember who number 20 had been. The first death had been number 16 who was a girl with white blond hair, but who had number 20 been? Tris wanted to be able to recall all those who had died, so that they would never be forgotten, but instead celebrated for their unfortunate sacrifice. She hoped the others were memorising faces and names just in case it wasn't Tris who won.

Then an image popped into Tris's head. Nova calling out for Number 20. Peter standing up.

Peter. Peter was dead.

Tris didn't know whether to be happy or sad. He'd always been a bit of an ass hole, trying to kill her or other people for the top rankings. The whole Edward-getting-stabbed-in-the-eye-with-a-butter-knife situation came to her mind but Tris shrugged that off. It was sad, she decided.

Despite how much of a prick Peter had been, she didn't like thinking that he was dead. To think, she would never ever be able to argue with him or slap him across face ever again.

Her mourning was interrupted by Nova's voice.

"Number 23: Ron."

Tris must have missed the disappearance of the girl with long hair, because now it was down to just her and that ginger Ron fellow. His steps were even and soft and he simply grabbed his rucksack and left the building. His indifference freaked Tris out for some reason.

Now it was her turn.

Tris hated being last. That's why she had liked her name in Abnegation because she was Beatrice Prior and if they did things alphabetically from first names, she was one of the first few and if it was by last names, she was roughly in the middle. She probably should have thought about that before choosing 'Tris' when entering Dauntless.

Either way, she stepped up to collect her things when here name was called.

Tris stopped in the corridor of the school. She had two minutes until her collar blew up and she was going to use that time to check through her supplies whilst she had decent cover away from the other tributes.

Riffling through her bag she found out each of the items Nova had said there would be; water, bread, torch, map and … a sewing kit? Was that her weapon? Seriously? When Nova had said the weapons had varying value, Tris didn't know she had meant some of them would be completely random and useless. *Wait. It's a sewing kit. It has needles, right?*

It had one needle.

It was the only weapon Tris had though so she was going to have to make do.

Her time was nearly up and she would rather not be reduced to bloody chunks of burning flesh, so she ran outside until she was at least 10 meters away from the school just to be on the safe side, the needle held tightly in her sweaty fingers. She would need to find cover and soon, but right now she needed to survey her surroundings. There was the school that she'd just come from, sporting courts off to her right, woods in front of her with the rises of hills and possibly a mountain in the distance, to her left was fields and then what she reckoned was a residential area. Which direction would Four have gone?

He wouldn't have been tempted to go to the housing estate because a few others would probably have gone there and that would surely lead to possible death or injury, he wouldn't have risked staying near the school in case someone happened to come across him hiding in the bushes or trees. He would be on the move, into the forest.

Tris was glad that she was part Erudite.

The wooden bat seemed to come out of nowhere. It smashed viscously into her side, a couple of cracks signalling the breaking of some of her ribs. Tris yelped in pain and fell to the ground.

Ginger Ron who'd been called at Number 23, stood over her his fingers curling around the handle of his weapon. His lips were pressed into a hard line and his eyes held nothing more than determination. He raised the bat again, preparing to wallop her. Blearily, Tris managed to roll out of the way just in time so that the object fell against the hard packed dirt rather than her body.

Tris ignored the pain shooting through her side and stumbled clumsily to her feet. Fortunately she still held the needle.

Ron brought the bat back to take another swing at her, unknowingly leaving himself open to attack. Purely on instinct and her determination to survive, Tris dove forward, jabbing the needle towards his face, only withdrawing it when she heard 23 yell in surprise and unspeakable pain.

Tris didn't realise she had closed her eyes until she opened them again, and when she did, she wished, more than anything, that she'd kept them closed.

The needle had burst Ron's eyeball. Thick, white, gooey liquid mixed with a heavy amount of blood dripped down his face as his empty hand groped to staunch the flow of blood pouring from his now empty eye socket. He was wincing and moaning in agony.

Tris felt something wet touch the fingers of her right hand, the one holding the needle. She looked at it and hastily dropped the metal in disgust. The needle had been coated in blood and goo and it had started running onto her hand.

Her side ached and she really needed to get out of there. Surely some other tributes had heard their screams and were coming to finish any survivors off. Tris needed to go and find Four, but she was far to transfixed with the sight of Ron's eye or more accurately his lack of.

The pain in her side made her feel dizzy and confused. She was having trouble breathing and when she brought her fingers to her lips and looked at them she saw they were covered in blood. *Damn. Have I punctured a lung?*

Tris heard a grunt from in front of her and when she looked up she saw that Ron was fighting past his pain… and he was now sending the wooden bat hurtling towards Tris's face.

She didn't have time to react when it came cracking against her head, smashing her skull open, getting bone buried into her brain, killing her instantly.

~Tributes remaining: 21~


End file.
